


Pudding

by apple_pi



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Fluff, Food Porn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-18
Updated: 2005-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-27 17:17:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7627129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Did y’bring me one?”<br/>I let my head fall back and looked at Bill sideways. “I didn’t. You just had biscuits.”<br/>“I had <i>one</i> biscuit. I didn’t know we had chocolate pudding,” Bill said with a sad little moue. “I <i>love</i> chocolate pudding.”<br/>I smiled at him, the sweetest, saddest, sugariest, most patently false smile I could muster. “That is so. Sad. Because this was the last one.” I lifted my head to watch TV again—Dr. Who! Hooray!—and opened the pudding cup. One large spoonful. “Mmmm,” I said, licking it slowly off the spoon. “This is so good. Mmmm.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pudding

“What do you have there?”

I waved the little cup at Bill and sat down at his feet, facing the telly. “Chocolate pudding.”

“Did y’bring me one?”

I let my head fall back and looked at Bill sideways. “I didn’t. You just had biscuits.”

“I had _one_ biscuit. I didn’t know we had chocolate pudding,” Bill said with a sad little moue. “I _love_ chocolate pudding.”

I smiled at him, the sweetest, saddest, sugariest, most patently false smile I could muster. “That is so. Sad. Because this was the last one.” I lifted my head to watch TV again—Dr. Who! Hooray!—and opened the pudding cup. One large spoonful. “Mmmm,” I said, licking it slowly off the spoon. “This is so good. Mmmm.”

“At least turn around and let me watch.” Billy sounded amused.

“You like to watch?” I obediently shifted around, ignoring the good Doctor in favour of the boxer-clad Scot on the settee. He loves to watch, does Bill.

Bill turned off the telly and moved his legs; he stretched them out, propping his heels on either side of my sticking-out knees. “You know I do.” 

I lifted another heaping spoonful and began licking it into my mouth as obscenely as possible. “Mmmm.”

“That’s a lucky spoon,” Bill said with a slow smile.

“Mmm.” I fellated the silvery bowl and grinned at Billy around my busy tongue. “Take off your pants.”

Bill raised one eyebrow, but he also raised his hips and pushed his (tartan, silk, naturally) boxers down and off, flipping them neatly off his toes in the direction of the hall. “This could get messy.”

“I promise I’ll lick up every last little bit,” I said. I rocked forward onto my knees and dropped the clean spoon onto the carpet. “Won’t be needing that. Now…” One finger dipped into the chocolate (smooth, cool, thick), swirled about, pulled out with a precarious load of silky brown pudding.

Billy watched with a little smile as I smeared it all over his half-erect cock. “This is _definitely_ going to get messy.”

“I don’t know why you think so.” I set the pudding cup aside and slid my chocolatey finger into my mouth, pulling it slowly out a moment later, wet and clean. “You seem skeptical of my powers of cleanliness.”

Billy snorted, though he had watched my finger with gratifying attention. “You don’t _have_ any powers of—oh—ah—cleanliness…” His voice trailed off as my mouth lowered over his cock. “Nnngh…” 

The chocolate tasted a thousand times better along with Bill’s salty skin—there’s a scent he has there, in that secret little sweaty place under his balls, and in the seam where his thigh meets his groin, that I just love, I can’t get enough of it. Add chocolate pudding and it just gets better, even if it’s shoddy 79-cent store-bought chocolate pudding. I took him in deep and then slid my mouth upward, lips clamped around the shaft as I dragged up and up and up, only to release Bill’s prick—miraculously hard, very wet, very clean—and swallow a mouthful of chocolate, smiling broadly.

“Maybe I was hiding them.”

The next fingerful of pudding anointed the base of Bill’s prick, and I licked it off, chasing each tongueful around and down, bathing Billy’s balls so his thighs opened and his body flattened against the sofa, breathing quick, hands touching my hair, cheek, nose, nape, jaw. His fingers fluttered against my skin and I hummed a little, loving the feel of it, how every movement I made was reflected back at me in those tentative, delicate touches, in the small noises he made, the words he mumbled, curses that came out as endearments.

A third fingerful and I descended on Billy’s cock like a starving man. Head bobbing up and down, I sucked hard, tongue working behind tightly sealed lips. Bill pushed up into my mouth, panting, the head of his cock bumping the soft place at the back of my throat. “Jesus fuck,” he rasped. “C’mon, c’mon, Dom, fuck—”

I popped off wetly. “There’s still some pudding left.” I grinned wickedly and picked up the cup, up-ending it over Bill’s erection. We both watched as the remaining bit—a mere mouthful—slid out in one sloppy glob, sliding over the drum-taut head, down the shaft to the base. A bead of clear precome welled up at the (chocolate-smeared) tip and followed the path the pudding had made.

“Yum,” I said, and stuck my tongue into Bill’s navel just to make him squeak, then dove back down, setting a fast rhythm as I swallowed the pudding and then kept on working Billy’s cock.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” Billy chanted breathlessly, “don’t you fucking stop, don’t you—ah—oh—Dom—Dom— _ah_ —yeah—Dom—” He came, shoving his cock deep into my mouth, warm come spurting into my throat and over my tongue as his fingers flexed against my scalp, never pulling my hair, just anchoring himself.

I swallowed a few times and held him safe and firm in my mouth until he began to soften, then let his prick slide gently from between my lips.

His shaky fingers combed through my hair, and I sat where I was for a minute or two, resting my cheek against his thigh and playing with his scrotum—I love the loose skin there, love to tug at it and roll it between my fingers. He had that scent on him so strongly now—sex and sweat and pheromones, I expect—and I could smell chocolate, too, though I’d been true to my word and licked up every little bit.

“C’mere,” he said, and I climbed onto the couch. “Thanks.”

We kissed, and I let him sweep his tongue all through my mouth, seeking out the last traces of chocolate and himself. “Mmm, that was the best dessert _ever_ ,” I said against his lips after a while.

“I’m hungry now,” he said, and I grinned and wriggled against him.

“I have just the thing.”

He let his head fall back against the settee and looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. “No, I think I want something chocolatey.” Before I could do more than open my mouth to protest, he jumped up—I fell sideways onto my face on the sofa—and trotted into the kitchen. I turned my head and watched him go; such a lovely rear view, even if it does belong to a selfish, thoughtless git. I sighed, and slid my hand down to rub absently over my cock, which was tenting my (alright, Billy’s, I stole them from his pants drawer) boxers. Dammit. I wanted this taken care of right _now_ , not after Bill’d satisfied his goddamn craving.

He reappeared in the lounge doorway, waving a rubber spatula in one hand and clutching a can of ready-made chocolate cake icing in the other. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, grinning at me. “I said I was hungry.” He turned and disappeared down the hall, snickering.

I scrambled off the sofa and ran.


End file.
